About The Blog

"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.

In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Mothers and Sons

Close to Blood River on the rocks of its tender shoresMothers and sons hold each other as their tears pourThe mounds will be adorned with bright dying flowersBut memories will echo in their mind past the hoursThe elite will scream in the name of peace and freedomAlthough behind their delicate mask they will confess who wonHeroes will sing their victory song over the lost and deadYet the ones they saved still will starve for water and breadIn unknown tongues they will chant as in times pastBut the glory that rolls from parched throats will never lastJudges and juries will pass sentence on the war crimesEven though jailed the poor will be captive without a dimeBombs continue to seek the innocent in the dead of nightAmbassadors and chancellors will respond to the ambivalent invitesPlanes will target while tanks bravely stand guardBorders in minds will be raped as hearts grow hardWhen they look into the mirror in this destroyed placeWill they see the different hearts but still one face?Lives traded for pride death bought with landChildren once played now lay in dunes of sandBombs the only gift to grant freedomBoth too pride full and stubborn to yieldEven with the brothers and mothers killedBoth paying a bill that neither can really affordThough both pray to the same yet different lordsLike the tears the retreating army may runBut not before the heartless sacrifice of mothers and sons